Monday, April 28, 2014

Tuesday Tales - Flying

Welcome
to Tuesday Tales! This week I`ll be sharing excerpts from my 2013 NaNoWriMo
novel, Laco Law – The Gnarled Oak. Laco Law is an M/M historical western romance, set in the fictional
county of Laco, Texas in 1867.

This
week our word prompt 'Flying’. In this excerpt Clayton and Zeke discover that
fate sometimes smiles upon lawmen.

A
note for my readers: This is a gay
romance novel, and so the romance that occurs is man on man. If this is not
your cup of tea, no one will think less of you if you read no further.

As
this is my NaNo work, it is quite rough. I do ask that you
overlook any glaring mistakes you may find. Please do check out the other
wonderful writers after you`re done reading by clicking on the Tuesday Tales
link at the bottom. Thanks for stopping in!

As it turned out my deputy had not
removed the man`s hair from his head. He had stabbed him repeatedly when the
drunken sot lunged at Zeke upon entering the building. I should have made
contrition for leaping to the wrong assumption but I did not. I rode in
steeping anger. When we came back upon the good Dr. Dante, I was beyond
foul-tempered. I was a cauldron filled with churning resentment. I pulled the
head of the Negro up. Dr. Dante made the identification. We allowed the victim
to take back his money, as well as any that the gang may have had upon them. He
was ecstatic to have his old swaybacked nag back. He spoke to the horse loudly,
sometimes in rhyme, as he hooked her back to his wagon. Zeke was smoking on the
other side of the wooden-sided wagon. I sat in the shade, picking at the heel
of my boot like it was a scab. Dr. Dante hurried around the wagon smiling
widely. I got to my feet.

“Truly you and your rather taciturn
deputy are saviors!” Dr. Dante beamed while shaking my hand. His grip was
stronger than I would have assumed. “If not for your timely intervention, I
would have been delayed beyond repair to pick up the lads for delivery to--”

“What did you say?
Picking up what lads?” I asked. Dr. Dante`s pale blue eyes grew wide with
alarm. The lid upon the bubbling cauldron inside me rattled ominously.

“Lads? Heavens above, no! Lads! I
cannot – Well, the word was simply a mistake spoken in a rush of gratitude that
– there are no lads to pick up! None at all! No!”

The wagon shook terribly when I
slammed the snake oil salesman into its side. I heard Zeke grunt in shock. I
tightened my hold around the stammering mans collar. His neck and jowls began
to grow scarlet.

“Lie to me again and I will bring my
deputy over to remove your hair from your skull,” I growled into Dr. Dante`s
pock-marked face. Sweat appeared on his brow. His upper lip twitched. Fear
seeped out of his pores.

“There are unwanted children that I
deliver! I swear upon the holy face of God that all I do is transport them from
one place to another!” he whimpered. I twisted his collar. He gagged. Spittle
was flying from him as his arms
flailed aimlessly. “I do not . . . soil them in any way! No . . . scalp . . .
please!”

“Where are you meeting them for
pick-up?” I asked. He blabbered uncontrollably. The sight of my deputy coming
to see what the disturbance was loosened Dr. Dante`s tongue. He relayed the
name of a certain man, a Caldwell Emerson, in San Antonio that was fond of
young boys. He used them as house servants as well as bedroom enjoyment. He was
known to be fond of the whip. “Did you make a delivery to this man, this
Caldwell Emerson, within the past month?”

“Yes, just a few weeks ago! There
was . . . but two children! Apache girl . . . bastard white boy!”

I then drew back my fist. I drove it
into his face relentlessly. Blood coated my right hand, my forearm, and my
clothes. It rained over my cheeks. I beat upon that man until Zeke forcibly
pulled me from him. Then I kicked out at the snake oil salesman. I longed to
drive the toe of my boot into his ribs hard enough to make the bone crack. I
attempted to stave in the side of his skull. Zeke dragged me further away, his
arms locked around my waist. When the writhing Dr. Dante was out of my reach
Zeke threw me to the ground. The ensuing wrestling match was unseemly for two
lawmen. My blood rage burned up quickly. I stared unseeing at the man lying on
top of me. His hair was in my mouth. My fists lay on his wide back.

“I am a poor excuse for a lawman,” I
confessed breathlessly. Zeke slowly pushed upward, his elbows locking. His bottom
lip had been split. “That was . . . unseemly.”

“You`re human,” he replied with
blood coating his teeth. He expectorated a mouthful of blood to the dirt then
got to his boots, his clothes coated with dust. I remained on my back,
squinting into the brilliant yellow orb in the sky.

“He deserves to die,” I panted, my
head spinning from exertion and mental stress. I felt myself stepping
precariously close to that rippling landscape that sometimes engulfed me. “Does
he not?”

“Yes, he does,” Zeke said after he
took a moment to light a cheroot with trembling hands. “He delivered innocents
into the hands of those who abuse them. A man like that . . . he deserves to
die, but not by your hand. He has no bounty. There is no reason legally for you
to end his life.”

“I agree,” I said. “I did not mean
to assault him so. It was . . . rage that propelled me.” My voice sounded
distant to my own ears. The rushing sound blew in on a dry wind. Dog padded
past, his tail between his legs. Zeke called to me. I rolled to my side. I
covered my head with my hands. The sounds of a hundred cannons rolling closer
vibrated through my soul.

Zeke did not allow me to fall into
the madness. He pulled me to my feet. Shook me, yelled at me, slapped me, held
me close. I clung to him with my eyes wide open. I looked at the pummeled face
of Dr. Dante. Zeke`s voice beside my ear slowed the pounding of a soldier`s
heart. When the worst had passed, I remained in his embrace. His palm moved
over my arm tenderly. He cradled the back of my head. He whispered endearments.
I thanked him on a reedy exhalation. In his arms the terror was less.